The Toby the Trilby Trilogy Boxed Set

by Angela Castillo

  “Yes, please, Toby.” Mia stood up and gave him a quick hug.

  Marabella stepped in the door and smirked at Mia. “Don’t worry your little fancy girl head. Jurn n’ I are too mean to die.”

  Mia’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.

  “And Toby is too... Trilbyish.” Jurn put his hand on Toby’s shoulder.

  “Can’t argue with that logic.” Gramble Horace chuckled.

  The party of three had already said goodbye to the rest of the cavern family, but Toby kept thinking of Gramble Colleen. I’ll never hug her again, at least, not for a long time. Suddenly life seemed much more temporary.

  He reached over and gave Gramble Horace a fierce hug. “I’ll miss you, Gramble Horace.”

  Tears glistened in Gramble Horace’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Toby, I’ll be here when you get back.”

  ###

  The roamer’s shadow flickered over the ground, changing shape and size with the passing landscape. Toby stayed up in the sky since flying through solid objects made him queasy.

  Marabella rummaged around in Jurn’s tool box and picked out a battery-powered saw. “Wow, this is great!” She flicked a button and watched the blade spin.

  “Give that here, you don’t know how to use it.” Jurn held out his hand.

  Marabella switched it off and gave it back. “I bet I could work it better than you.”

  Jurn sighed and showed the saw to Toby. “Gramble Howard said this would be the best tool for cutting that tangled wire in the roamer’s ceiling, but it just made a bunch of sparks.”

  “We don’t even know what that alien stuff is made from, so I’m not sure what we could use. I’ll look at it later.” Toby pushed his hand inside a container in his armrest, where he curled and uncurled his fingers. The device used light to scan the signals and guide the ship.

  He turned to see Marabella watching every motion.

  She twisted a brown curl around her thumb and grinned. “Hey, Cat Kid, if anything happens to you, someone has to fly the plane, right?”

  “I’ve taught Jurn--”

  Jurn’s eyes flicked to Marabella, and he frowned.

  I shouldn’t have said anything. After all, I was Marabella’s prisoner once. She might have killed me. I can’t trust her, and Jurn knows it. Toby pursed his lips into what he hoped looked like a confident smile. “This will be a quick trip. I want to meet the head of this church group. Maybe I can help them somehow.”

  “Why do you care about other folks anyway?” asked Marabella.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.” Toby pulled the view screen down closer to scan the ground. “And one of the most important commandments Father gives His children is to love each other.”

  “I just worry about filling my belly.” Marabella bit a chunk out of an apple. “Sometimes that’s all I can do.” Juice dribbled down her chin.

  When Toby urged the ship faster, the trees blurred into a sea of green, prickled waves. “So, we’ll find this city if we follow this old highway?”

  “Yes, but the forest grew up through the roads and made ‘em trash.” Marabella swallowed the last bite of apple core. “You know the place with those giant bridges? It takes a couple of days walking from there.”

  Toby nodded. “I passed that place before I... uh... met your group.” He shook his head. I must have looked like a scared rabbit running across the mesa while wild kids chased me. Three years later here he was, sharing an adventure with two of those children.

  A dead city passed beneath them. Though most of the buildings were completely reclaimed by the forest, a few of the tallest structures still stood defiantly in the waning light.

  “No one goes into those places.” Marabella pointed down to the clustered buildings. “Not even worth lookin’ for loot. Some have lions and gorillers in the streets.”

  “Wow. I would love to see a real, live gorilla.” Jurn said.

  “Not today.” Toby flew the craft higher.

  Marabella jabbed a sticky finger towards the screen. “We’re almost there. I recognize that big cliff.”

  The sky darkened from bright turquoise to a deep violet, and fluffy clouds gave way to stars. These were soon joined by lights from a gathering of structures on a hill in front of them.

  Toby slowed the craft until it hovered over the hill. So many lights! By far the largest living city he had seen on his adventures. His ears quivered in excitement. He couldn’t wait to see new faces and explore new streets. He flattened his palm and lowered it to the bottom of the container. The ship responded to his command and sank through the trees. It landed with a thud.

  “You’re not going to let them see your... cat stuff, are you?” Jurn frowned.

  “No. At least, not at first. I don’t want to scare anyone.” Toby grabbed a coat from the storage bin. Dark fabric hung down to his ankles. He pulled the hood over his ears.

  Jurn looked him up and down. “You sure look different! Not like Toby anymore.”

  “Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Jurn stared at the view screen. “It’s just strange.”

  So many times, Toby had wished his ears and tail would disappear so he could look like everyone else. Now this idea almost seemed like a betrayal.

  Toby pressed a button and the door slid open. Father, keep me safe.

  3

  CITY STREETS

  Toby stepped out of the roamer and into a thick stand of trees. A broken fence sprawled before him, and further on a wall peeped through the tangled forest.

  The few living cities Toby had visited were all surrounded by walls of some kind, built from what materials people could scavenge. This city’s walls were constructed of broken concrete, utility poles and metal sheeting. Trees had grown into cracks, widening them over time.

  Why hasn’t Leader come through this town? Though a year had passed since Toby had encountered the power-hungry man, he could still hear his barking voice, full of greed and hate. Yes, Leader’s vehicles were too large to squeeze through the forest, but his troops could have marched in.

  “You sure you don’t want me to come? I have good sneak skills.” Jurn surveyed the wall.

  Toby shook his head. “Somebody has to guard the ship. And one can slip in easier than two.”

  Marabella stepped out of the cube and pointed to the left. “I got in the gate over there. Last time, nobody was watching nothin’. This city has forgotten itself.”

  Toby squinted to see thick metal bars of a gate, large enough for two school buses to drive through side by side. “Where’s the church?”

  “Not far. You havta go all the way to the end of the first street. Turn left at the blue house. The church is three buildings down from that. Has a big, white cross, the only one like it. When you get there, ask for Mr. Malachi.”

  Toby searched her eyes for a glint of honesty. They couldn’t afford to lose the roamer, and Jurn was family to him. He had two options: take everyone home right now, or explore this new city and maybe find people who shared common goals and faith.

  Marabella turned back to the ship. “Think I’ll take a nap.”

  “Don’t worry, Toby, I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble,” Jurn whispered.

  Toby’s heart urged him forward, and like usual, he chose to follow it. “All right. I won’t be long.” He curled his tail up under his coat.

  Though Marabella said the area was deserted, Toby still moved slowly, nose in the air to catch the scent of any other creature. The hood muffled his hearing terribly, but he didn’t know how these people would deal with his appearance. A teenager the size of a seven year old might be accepted. But a Trilby?

  He slipped through the gate. It hung by one hinge, rusted and useless. Windows of buildings stared at him with empty, broken eyes. No lights glimmered in the depths.

  Only stars and the crescent moon, dipped low in the sky, shed dim light on the street.

  Toby crept down the first lane and found the blue house Marabella h
ad described, though the paint was hard to see.

  A creature shot out from the shadows and brushed by his legs. Just a cat, on an errand Toby could only guess, since he’d never learned how to talk to his cousins. The Trilby leaned against a wall for a moment to allow his racing heart to slow. The animal had been downwind so he hadn’t scented it. He’d been too focused on finding the church to keep watch. I must be more careful.

  He turned north. A white cross blazed in front of a building, lit up by candles flickering in windows.

  For most people, the only sources of light were hand-dipped candles, a few rusted lanterns, and fires. Many chose to go to sleep with the sun. How would these folks feel if they knew of the cavern’s riches? Toby must not reveal too much. He couldn’t share information that might lead Leader to the grambles.

  Scents of soap, sweat, books and... stew. A man was behind him. Toby licked his lips and turned.

  The man was reaching out with a large, umber hand to touch Toby’s shoulder.

  “Hello, little fellow.” Though soft and mellow, the man’s voice still held authority. “We haven’t met, and I know everyone in this town. The young, the old, and the vibrant.”

  “I’m a traveler, Sir.” Toby tried to speak in a steady tone, but his voice shook a little. The man towered above him and could have thrown Toby against the wall as easily as a sack of flour.

  The man peered down at Toby’s face. “Your voice... How old are you?”

  “Fifteen, Sir. I’m short.”

  “Well, nothing wrong with that! My name is Mr. Malachi.” The man opened his hand and pushed it closer.

  “I’m Toby.” He grasped the man’s hand and gave what he hoped was a firm shake. “And I believe you are the reason I came to this city.”

  “Me?” One of Mr. Malachi’s eyebrows arched up higher than the other. “Now you’ve got me curious, Toby. But we should go inside. Though I’ve helped every one of the vibrant, they’ll steal what they can and you have a fancy coat. Come into the Lord’s house. We will keep you sheltered.”

  Toby followed Mr. Malachi up the steps.

  The door swung open and fingers of light and warmth reached out to usher them inside. Toby had seen pictures of grand cathedrals, giant churches and tiny chapels, all built for people of faith to come together in Father’s name. But he’d never seen a church like this one. The front room opened out before him, bathed in light from lanterns and flames from a fireplace at the end of the room. A few angel statues stood in corners, and Toby could just glimpse pews and a pulpit through a door to his left.

  Children milled around a long table in the center of the room, scooting chairs and clearing dishes. They laughed and chattered while they worked. Two boys rolled a ball across the room to each other while everyone else stepped around it, trying to balance dirty plates.

  Mr. Malachi followed Toby’s gaze. “It’s the youngers’ turn to clean up tonight. The olders cooked the evening meal. Busy hands make happier hearts, so we all have our duties.” Malachi reached out and gently drew a child over to him. “A bored child is one of the saddest creatures in this world. Eh, Alexander?”

  The candles lit up the boy’s grin and revealed two missing teeth. “Yes, Mr. Malachi.” He hugged the giant man and skipped off, back to work.

  “A girl, Marabella, told me this city had a real church, so I came to see for myself.” Toby stepped closer to the fireplace and held out his hands to the blaze.

  Mr. Malachi’s smile flashed. “So glad to hear the girl is safe! When she first arrived, I was sure she’d get caught up with the vibrant ones. She left the city two or three months ago and I worried for her. Few who enter the forest ever return.”

  He gestured to a corner by the fireplace, where roughly-hewn benches lined the walls. “Please, sit.”

  “What is Vibrance?” Toby took a steaming mug offered to him by a little girl.

  Many of the children around him stopped and stared at the ground.

  Toby frowned. “What did I say?”

  “Vibrance is what used to be known as a drug,” said Mr. Malachi, sitting down beside him. “Many of the children have lost family members to the Palace of Dreams, where Vibrance is made. Only the mem-keeper knows how Vibrance is made, and most of the townspeople would pay any price to walk through the palace doors, drink and forget.”

  A little girl with long, brown braids leaned against Mr. Malachi’s shoulder and clasped her hands. “They dance there.” Her soft eyes shone. “They dance to music.”

  “Serephina, my love, you know the dance is dangerous and steals away people’s lives.”

  “Besides,” said Alexander, who had come back to listen. “We have our own dancing times at church.”

  A memory of Gramble Lenora, hopping from one foot to another, head thrown back in song, made Toby smile. “We dance in our church, too.”

  “You go to church?” Serephina’s eyes widened. “Do you have it on sunny-days?”

  “Sundays?” Toby nodded. “Yep.”

  Malachi rose from his seat. “Children, gather around please. Chores are finished and it’s time for bed. Let’s bow our heads and thank the Lord for this day.”

  Toby knelt down while childish murmurs filled the air around him. Each child spoke their own blessing at once. I can feel it. Father’s Holy Spirit lives in this place.

  His heart was swept away to a world filled with golden light, and he heard a familiar voice, the voice of his Father say, “I love you, my son, I love you.”

  For a few moments after the prayer was finished, Toby kept his eyes closed. He wished the time could last forever. When he finally looked up, only Mr. Malachi remained in the room.

  “Now, Toby, why don’t you tell me your whole story?”

  ###

  Emory blinked. A thick blanket covered his body up to his chin, and moonlight through the boarded window cast slatted shapes on the wall. He was in the healing room, a tiny alcove situated close to Mr. Malachi’s quarters so a sick child could be cared for without disturbing the rest of the house.

  A lantern clattered on the table by his bed and a wrinkled hand rested on his forehead. “Are you awake then, Emory, my memory?”

  “Yes, Miss Jasmine, I’m awake.” The nickname warmed Emory to his toes. For a long time after Sonda left he would wake up in the night, afraid the old woman had gone to the Palace. She always reassured him. “No, Dear, for you are my memory. Nothing in this world could make me happier than you.”

  The day’s events flooded back into his mind and he kicked the tangled blanket away from his feet. “I have to get Sonda.”

  “Hush, child. Malachi found you asleep in the line today. Now what if a Finder had plucked you away, like my poor Philip?” The older dabbed away a tear with a shaking hand, though her grandson had been lost before Emory was born.

  “Finders haven’t been out for ages, Miss Jasmine.” Emory patted her hand. “Those crazies gave up a long time ago.”

  In the first Palace years, Finders had kidnapped children and sent them to search for mems in nearby dumps and sewers. No one bothered any more. But sometimes, when Emory passed the Palace, he almost thought he could hear children’s voices join in the driving song.

  “You never know.” Miss Jasmine handed him a jar of water. “Vibrance has a nasty grip on people. They forget about things that didn’t work and try them again.”

  “I need to get Sonda out of there.”

  “Oh, Emory, your sister always was a hardened soul. And once the Vibrance has someone, well... they almost never come back.”

  “I believe Sonda can be swayed.” Emory took a sip of water. “I--” He suddenly remembered his elation from earlier in the day. “Oh, Miss Jasmine! I got the chopper blades to turn!”

  Miss Jasmine’s face sagged, causing her wrinkles to travel all the way down to the corners of her mouth. “When Mr. Malachi found that manual, I never thought you’d get such a dangerous notion into your head. What if someone finds out you have a flying machine?”
/>
  “It doesn’t fly yet.” Emory found his shoes and plopped down on the floor to slip them on, though they were so battered, it hardly seemed worth the trouble. “I just want Sonda to see the helicopter. Maybe it will give her hope. Maybe she’ll agree to come with me when I do get it finished.”

  “Have you lost your mind, child?” Miss Jasmine snapped. “Even if you get that thing to run, how could you ever fly it by yourself?”

  “I’ve studied, lots.” Emory grabbed his small pack and slung it over one shoulder. “I know it’ll happen, because I want it so bad.”

  Miss Jasmine’s eyelids drooped, and a tear spilled down one cheek. “How many of the children here dream about their mommies and daddies coming home? How many of the olders wish for their daughters and sons? Sisters? Brothers? The Vibrance has taken them all, and no amount of hope has ever brought them back.”

  “I can pray,” said Emory. “Mr. Malachi came back.”

  The old woman’s shoulders fell. “You’re right. God is more powerful than the Vibrance. And He did rescue Mr. Malachi from the Dance of Dreams.”

  Mr. Malachi was the only person Emory knew who had been saved from the Palace after tasting the Vibrance.

  “Mr. Malachi had been visiting the Palace for weeks,” Miss Jasmine continued, “but his mama prayed and prayed. Then one day, he just came out. Stood in the sun and praised the Lord for his deliverance. Then he got to work, cleaning up the old church building where his parents served. And here we all are. Safe and filled with food and the Holy Spirit. So you are right, Emory. Hope remains.”

  The elderly woman often repeated stories, but Emory never tired of this one. He wrapped his arms around her frail waist and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Pray for me, Miss Jasmine. I have to try.”

  4

  HELP TO COME

  Mr. Malachi drummed a charcoal stick against his bearded chin, seemingly oblivious to the new smudge it created with every tap. “Young friend, just by your clothes, I see you’ve come from a place with better resources. And you came through the forest without a scratch, so I’m guessing you have superior transportation.”